Jessica Belmosto

Chicago, also known as the Windy City, has felt like home for the past four and a half years. I’ve never stayed there for more than a week. I didn’t meet a boy who swept me off my feet. There wasn’t a singular event that had me saying, “Yeah, this is home.” It was a friend who lives just outside of Chicago.

I was invited to attend a concert with Heather back in 2014. I rode a train for 21 hours. Sleeping off and on, checking the weather app to see what city I was in. I remember the AC was blasting. It was April, why on earth do we need to be in an ice box? Waking up and seeing the Chicago skyline was overwhelming. I texted Heather a picture. I was finally in her city!

I supposed I should rewind and take you on a trip down memory lane. Heather and I met online. We both ran a One Direction fan page back when that was cool. We bonded over a band that we’d later see in concert together multiple times. We talked about wanting to meet. I live in Boston and she lives in Chicago. It’s not exactly a car ride away. Our friendship evolved from Kik messages to all night Skype calls. Getting the invitation to visit her was the start of something I’d never experienced before.

I feel as if there’s this stigma around Chicago. People who have never been talk about it like it’s a war zone. Drive by shootings don’t happen while you’re walking to visit the Bean. You aren’t hearing constant gunshots. Instead, you’re seeing a diverse group of people take in the sites around them. It’s couples takes their wedding pictures in front of a waterfall. It’s friends sharing a meal at a picnic table. It’s the boyfriend popping the question to the love of his life in front of unsuspecting people at the Bean. Life is beautiful. Chicago is beautiful.

It’s not always about being downtown and feeding into the not so touristy shops. Sometimes you have to drive a little. Whether it be to one of the Great Lakes or a little further to a beautiful temple, you’ll always find yourself thinking about them.

(Bahá’í House of Worship)

Falling in love with a city outside of your own is an experience. You get to see new places, taste new foods, and meet new people. Let me tell you, I’ve been craving Portillo’s and deep dish pizza since the last time I left.

Spending the nights at my best friend’s house and devouring deep dish pizza, were some of my favorite nights. We’d binge watch Pretty Little Liars or The Fosters until the sun came up. When I was there when Lollapalooza was going on, we’d drive down to grab and ice cream and hear the headliners set. It wasn’t always the flashy city things. It was the little things. Just thinking about it makes me smile.

The next time I visit will be a little different. I’ll actually be looking at colleges. Everything is up in the air at the moment. Transferring colleges is a story for another day but, something tells me I’ll land in Chicago someday. Boston has been home for the past 22 years. It will always be home. However, Chicago fills that little void in my heart. Maybe it’s because it isn’t home. It’s far enough away where I’m forced to be independent. If not next year, at some point I will be a Chicago resident.